


Spellbound

by Elysandra



Series: Spellbound [2]
Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Dark!Nikola is coming out to play, F/M, Fictober 2020, Mind Control, Vampire Thrall, and Helen is game, it is not mentioned here but she does have a way out, will be explained in another story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:26:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26899651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elysandra/pseuds/Elysandra
Summary: This follows directly after "Under His Spell". Nikola indulges in a dark little fantasy.
Relationships: Helen Magnus/Nikola Tesla
Series: Spellbound [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1962724
Kudos: 5
Collections: Fictober20





	Spellbound

~~~

He looks down at her with that look in his eyes that tells her this is going to get intense. On her back, on their combined sleeping bags, basically on the floor of a cave, she feels her nerves tingle in nervous expectation. The cool air brushes over her naked, already highly sensitised skin, covered in marks from his hands and nails and teeth. And like this, with her arms above her head and her legs spread open for him at his command, she can’t do anything but wait for him, wait for whatever his mind has come up with now.

"You know,” he begins, just as expected, and moves to kneel between her thighs, “you by my side, exploring the world - that's really all I ever wanted.”

And that would be romantic, if he weren’t at the same time lying down between her legs, getting ready to fuck her after marking her so thoroughly, and then having her prepare herself to take him.

“Unenthralling you doesn't actually sound all that enticing to me." 

There it is. Dark Nikola.

“I wouldn’t gain anything, would I?”

She grunts as he pushes into her in between lines of this monologue. His order keeps her quiet, though she'd have _many_ things to say. _Because_ she'd have many things to say. He does not want to hear them as he claims her, again. That much is obvious. And unsurprising. And, maybe, she doesn't _really_ want to hear them, either. 

"It would be so easy to keep you, too," Nikola continues, setting up a slow, almost leisurely rhythm as he takes her waiting body. "The easiest thing, really. Not to do anything about it. No matter what we find out." She glares up at him, and he thrusts harder to hear her answering moan, smirking as her scowl darkens despite her breath turning into aroused little noises as his words continue to paint his version of the future for her. 

"We'd go wherever we wanted. Explore whatever we found interesting. And you'd be right there beside me, every step of the way. Be there whenever I wanted you. Offer yourself to me whenever I said the word." He smirks down at her, at her glare, at the way she keeps her legs open for him at his order and clenches around him as he takes her, physically. Mentally. "Wouldn't that be great?" His grin widens. "Say 'That would be amazing!', Helen," he orders, and her lips begin to move before she can even think about it. 

"That would be amazing, Nikola!" 

He moans, thrusting harder, making her gasp. 

"Say 'I'd love that!', Helen." 

"I'd love that, Nikola!" she hears herself say, her words breathy and uneven as her lips continue forming them with no regard for her gasps at his thrusts. 

Nikola chuckles, breathless himself. 

"That doesn't sound particularly convincing," he comments, sounding strangely happy about it. "Do not come without my permission, Helen," he orders next, and reaches down to play with her clit even as she feels the order take hold. 

It has her growl in utter frustration, all the words she is unable to say morphed into one, guttural sound, because she can _tell_ his touch would be enough to push her over. It's a strange feeling, almost disturbing, like a vast emptiness where her climax should be. And yet it only pushes her arousal further, adds to the mind-numbing haziness this whole scenario is creating for her. 

"You may beg for my permission, Helen, but use only words meant to persuade me." 

He's getting frighteningly good at using his new power over her, and she's almost angry at herself for enjoying it, craving it the way she does. But his words give her an opening, and she's desperate to fill that void inside her. And she knows him well enough to put two and two together, to realise what it is he wants to hear. What it is that will get her his permission tonight. 

"I... I love the life you're describing, Nikola," she begins haltingly. Knowing what he wants, knowing that this is just a game, doesn't make it easier to give in. "I'd love for you to-" she breaks off as his teeth close around her breast, forcing a gasp from her lungs as they sink into her skin. Eyes closed, head thrown back, she arches underneath him as he sucks a couple of times, a fresh wave of arousal washing over her, not pushing her over, of course not. But taking her ability to think, to form words, let alone sentences. Not that he is gaining much the way he's going about it. A few drops, a caricature of feeding. An act, for her. It doesn't matter. He has ordered her to love being fed on, and her body and mind obey. 

"You were saying?" he asks smugly as he pulls back, kneading her other breast in what can only be a threat, a promise. He's waiting for the right moment, the one that will create the most impact. But she cannot protest, and she cannot outwait him. He is controlling her, and she is playing his game. 

"I'd love for you-" she repeats, moaning helplessly as his hand returns between her legs, "for you to take me away. Have me follow you- _aagh_ ," her throat makes a strangled noise where protest wants to be as he leans in again, poised and ready to repeat his earlier interruption. She moans as that reminds her again that there will be no protest, not tonight. "W-wherever you, uh, you go," she finishes her sentence, half expecting him to interrupt already. He doesn't. He wants more. She whimpers, her need so sharp, so intense. "Please, Nikola, please!" she begs shamelessly, desperately. "Allow me to come, please!" 

"No," he refuses darkly. "I want more." 

She cries out in frustration, quite unintended, a raw sound that tells him everything. Not under his control, but also quite out of hers. It doesn't sway him, not in the slightest. 

"I- I'd love to be-" she forces out, barely able to understand her own words through her frustration, her need, "be by- your side. To nou-" 

He bites down, and she moans, long and low and desperate, as her body arches up toward him once more, offering herself to him. Her mind goes blank, only his words anchoring her in the situation. 

"Stay with me, Helen," he orders smugly, "and continue." 

Which is a strange feeling, because it forces words out of her mouth that aren't his but that she also isn't capable of thinking anymore. It's like another her is speaking, one desperate to please, desperate to gain his pleasure, his permission. 

"To nourish you," she hears her own voice through the haze of pleasure, "and obey. And please. And satisfy. And pleasure. And- please, Nikola. Please!"

"Come for me," she finally, finally feels more than hears his words, his permission. His order. And she does, whether under his will or her own is impossible to say and doesn't matter anyway. What matters is the pleasure that sweeps through her, fills the void, fills every last corner of her. Fills her to overflow, too much to keep inside her body, every last muscle straining to carry her through it as she cries out underneath him, going rigid even as he continues to fuck her, pushing harder and harder for his own release as she fights to get air into her lungs, her body collapsing, then writhing at the continued assault. Too much, too long, too-

"Take it, Helen," he growls, right on the edge of completion himself, and she does, has to, throws her head back and forth at the overload of sensation as her body refuses to try and get away anymore. No escape. No control. Only his. 

She is his. 

She is his, and she'll be mortified, later, to realise that _that_ thought is what pushes her into a second high, has her whimper and arch up against him as he comes. But it is. 

She is his. 

~~~ 

**Author's Note:**

> This kind of wrote itself but absorbed a couple of prompts from my Kinktober collection along the way: 
> 
> "Extreme" / "Games" / "all I ever wanted"
> 
> Beta by Kat, thank you! <3


End file.
